


A Stately Pleasure Dome Decree

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another night at the club</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stately Pleasure Dome Decree

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Angels and Kings](http://angelsandkings.dreamwidth.org/) flashfic challenge "Gods & Monsters"

  
Pete sits in the office of Angels & Kings in LA and leans back in his chair. There’s a window that allows him a view down into the club, and the young and desperate are grinding together to the latest concoction the DJ works up. He sips his drink and makes a face. “Again?”

“Mmm.” Mikey’s stretched out on a couch, staring down at his ipad on the floor. It’s not actually an ipad, nothing sanctioned by Apple, but it serves the same purpose, and Mikey flicks through the screens, looking at the clubgoers as if they were models’ headshots. “It doesn’t matter what you order. It’s always going to be the same thing.”

“That’s why this party sucks,” Gabe agrees from his stool by the bar along the wall. “You want nachos and instead you get ambrosia. You want some Jack and Coke, and instead you’re drinking nectar.”

“No mixers work with nectar,” Mikey agrees. He touches one of the pictures and flicks it through a series of pages, falling faster and faster until he finds the one he wants.

“And it just makes Coke taste funny. Like New Coke.”

“And that’s just wrong.” Pete has to agree, sipping his drink again. It would be one thing if they could make it taste like whatever it was they most desired, but mostly it was just thirst-slaking without taste at all. “Still. I think we should talk to someone about this. You’d think it’d be something well within the power to change.”

“Some things even we can’t do.” Mikey mixes the pictures together, blending them seamlessly, watching as the colors coalesce around the two people, mixing and blending into the scene below them on the dance floor. Two bodies move together, matched perfectly, and the music starts to echo the way they sway.

“You guys, this is boring.” Gabe slips off his stool and walks over to the window, glaring down at the floor to watch Mikey’s handiwork before making a face. “And sort of pussies. Both of you.”

“Relax, Gabanti.” Pete tosses a grape at him. Gabe ignores it and it bounces off his shoulder, rolling to the middle of the floor. “Just a little fun.”

“Yeah,” Mikey throws in. “We can’t all plot the destruction and downfall of modern society. If we did, what would there be for you to do?”

“I’m not evil.”

“Right.” Pete agrees. “Misunderstood. Totally.”

“Fuck you.” Gabe grabs the grape off the floor, squeezing it until lush purple wine rains down onto the carpet. Pete curses under his breath as the stain spreads through the white rug. “Hedonism.”

“There are more important things.” Pete squints and Gabe’s hand opens, stopping the flow of wine. He rubs his wrist against the shock of pain Pete just sent him. “Lots of things.”

“Like what?” Gabe snaps his fingers and the wine stain is gone, but the carpet has a strange bluish-purple hue now.

Pete shrugs. He actually likes the color better than white. “Love.”

“Passion.” Mikey’s at work on the pad again, finding people like pieces of a puzzle.

“Family.”

“Yep, I was right. You’re all a bunch of pussies.” Gabe flings himself across the couch, head landing on Pete’s lap. “Did you not listen to the whole ‘if the world is ending, I’m throwing a party’ thing?”

“I did,” Mikey taps his screen, sending it spinning again. “Back when Prince did it. When was that? Oh, 1999.”

“1982,” Gabe flips him off. “Asshole.”

“Oooh.” Mikey waggles his eyebrows at Pete. “Someone’s been hanging out with _Paaaaaaaaaaatrick_.”

Gabe flips him off again and burrows his head against Pete’s thigh. Pete strokes Gabe’s short hair, his fingers causing the black strands to tangle and grow, tumbling wildly. Pete gives Mikey a look of warning and takes another drink from his never-empty cup. “Gabe is right, you know.”

“Never tell him that,” Mikey informs him, crawling across the floor to the couch Pete and Gabe are resting on, climbing up on Gabe and draping himself over him. “It goes to his head.”

“Right, because being a _god_ doesn’t do that already.” Gabe gives Mikey a smirk, which earns him a sharp stab beneath his ribs. “Ow.”

“Besides.” Mikey ignores Gabe completely. “He’s never right.”

“No, he is.” Pete pushes his cup away. “We’re gods.”

“Well, yeah,” Mikey shrugs. “He’s right about that, but you can’t give him credit for known facts.”

“We’re gods, so…we should get nachos.”

Both Gabe and Mikey look at him, and Pete shrugs. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not taking over the world or whatever the Titans and shit wanted to do, but…I mean, couldn’t you go for some really amazing nachos?”

“Blue corn tortilla chips.” Gabe licks his lips.

Mikey’s stomach rumbles. “Gabe doesn’t eat meat. I’m not sharing with him.”

“Extra cheese. Not, like, that real cheese shit.” Pete licks his lips. “That cheese sauce crap that you get in convenience stores. I want my cheese to glow in the fucking dark.”

“Olives. Jalepenos.” Gabe practically moans the word. “Guacamole.”

Mikey glances as his ipad and then at the two of them. “One more couple?”

“If we get them at a convenience store, we can share, because that’s not real meat,” Pete wiggles out from under them and glances around the room for his hoodie. “And their jalepenos glow in the dark too.”

“I’m getting a Slurpee.” Gabe states emphatically, combing his hair back to subdue the curls Pete brought to life, tamping them down. “Blue raspberry and Coca-Cola. Unless they have some of that banana flavor. And I’m getting the biggest size ever. Olympus sized.”

“Won’t work.” They all start at the voice from the corner and glance over. Frank’s suspended in mid-air, the wings on his shoes almost invisible. Pete’s pretty sure they’re painted gold like the snitch in honor of Harry Potter. “No matter where you go or what you do, all that you intake will be food of the goods, nectar of the gods.”

“You’ve obviously never had the banana flavor,” Gabe informs him. “That shit is fucked up.”

“Mark my words,” Frank shrugs and leans back, letting his wings keep him upright as he crosses his arms over his chest. “It’ll be fucked-up banana flavored nectar.”

“Go fuck your staff,” Gabe suggests, tugging on his own jacket. “What’s the point in being a god if you don’t get to do the shit you want at three in the morning?”

“Guiding the world? Helping humanity?” Frank’s serious face is suddenly split with a huge grin. “Nah, I’m just shitting you. I’m totally down for nachos. You think they have Four Loco?”

Pete, Frank and Gabe head for the door, discussing the merits of Four Loco, Red Bull and which Slurpee flavors they’d mix best with. Mikey grins and looks down at his ipad, sending one picture chasing after another. He’ll pick it up in the morning. Tonight the humans can fend for themselves.  



End file.
